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Frustrated

There are worse things to get frustrated about, but I’m gonna go ahead and gripe anyways.

The day started out great. I slept in, then proceeded to have a very fruitful morning. I’m supposed to “rest”, but it worked out because I had plenty of phone calls to make. First of all, I scheduled our free carpet cleaning we got for renewing our lease (not as nice as it sounds…we missed the early-renewal window which would have given us $200 off our first month’s rent…). Next, I called around, got Claire’s health records from the different veterinarians she’s had, and scheduled (no, not her “snip snip” surgery) her adult booster shots. Both of these two calls were to make sure things are ready for the baby– I don’t want him crawling around on dirty carpets, and I especially don’t want Claire to get rabies and bite him (in that order, of course).

NEXT, I started the long list of calls I needed to make regarding the Passat. Yes, we still have it. It doesn’t even run, hence all the phone calls. I needed to find out the price of alternators, then call around and price compare at the different repair shops. Next, I needed to figure out the cheapest way to get it towed– should we add roadside service to our auto insurance? Should we just pay someone to tow it? It turned out, the cheapest way was to renew our Triple A membership.

NEXT, I renewed my health insurance with UD, which, sadly, has now gone up to $600 for the entire year…I know that this is only $50/month for EXCELLENT health coverage, but it is still upsetting. I did find out, however, that circumcision with a physician is 100% covered…poor Gregory got very still when I read that. But I’m happy to know we’ll be saving a few hundred dollars.

Now comes the frustrating part. A few days ago, after Julie took a shower in our guest bathroom, we discovered that the drain was backing up and that there was nothing Jesse could do to remedy it. Our complex not only lets us pay our rent and utilities online in a nice and expedient way, but we can also place service requests. I decided to get this taken care of as well. I filled out the form, checking the pre-set options stating that I was not granting “free for all” access to the repairman, but instead wanted him to come at a SET TIME– Thursday Sept. 2nd, between 1-5pm, to be exact.

That last detail is very important, people. You understood what that meant, right? SEPT. 2ND. 1-5 PM. IT’S NOT ROCKET SCIENCE.

At this point, it was about 1pm. I decided that I had a few hours until my piano lessons began, so I would go down to the pool and float. It’s pretty much like walking on the moon for pregnancy– suddenly, you can forget how huge you are and can be weightless, if only for a moment.

When I came back around 2, just in time to eat lunch and get ready for work, there was a golf cart parked in our driveway. The repair man’s golf cart. I exclaimed a few exasperated words over the phone to my dad, who I was on the phone with at the time, and started to put two and two together. Apparently, the form they had me fill out meant NOTHING. Instead, he was currently in my house, less than 2 hours after I filled out the form.

Alright, I know I’m being a bit anal about this. But when one is asked questions like, “What day do you want us to come?” or, more importantly, “Do you grant us access to come at any time, or do you want to set an appointment?”, one expects that those answers actually MEANT something.

I called the office, and the lady was very apologetic, saying that she could see the exact details of my work order, and had “no clue” why he was there two days ahead of time. I explained that I was in my BATHING SUIT, and that I had to take a shower and get ready for work, ideally without a strange man I don’t know in the next room. She understood completely and said that she would call him on the radio and ask him to leave.

After 15 minutes of standing in the 100 degree heat (no more weightless floating feeling, I can tell you that!), the man came out the door. In broken English, he said proudly, “I fixed the drain!”. I’m sure my look said it all: “I could care LESS about the drain! All I want is my air conditioned apartment and shower!” It was rude. I know. But as a result of losing those 20 minutes, I had to go to work with wet hair and eat my lunch while driving.

I guess I should be thankful that things get taken care of so quickly, so am I over-reacting? Is this a protective-pregnancy-hormone thing?